I Can't Help It
by ARMV7
Summary: Max just can't seem to help it when a certain Punk walks through the door of her Bakeshop. [Drabble/Prompt]


Owning your own business is hard. It's a pain in the ass, but an accolade at the same time.

Max knew that pretty damn well at this point. At age twenty, Max Caulfield had followed her entrepreneurial spirit right into a now newly established bakery located in Arcadia Bay's core. Core meaning those two pot-hole ridden roads that intersected at the centre of town. She wasn't going to sparkle the situation. Towns like these couldn't hold a candle to the big cities she was used to. However, picking her hometown as the place to set up shop just seemed right.

The job was demanding. She did most of the work herself, the only extra help she received was when her friend Kate had time to spare and stop by for a while. Managing books, expenses, products, and pricing was a lot, but the brunette was hopeful. People say the first year is _always_ the hardest, but after that; it should be smooth sailing.

Currently she stood behind the counter of her small shop, donning her "hipster" attire with an apron matted in flour spots. In her hand was a clipboard with a list of all her available treats she had to offer, and in front of her was the shiny glass display case with said treats in it –hoping to catch the eyes of passers-by.

" _Looks like I'm all set to open today."_ Max affirmed. She checked off the last thing on the list, and jotted the time down so she'd know when it'd be appropriate to get the next batch ready (sales hadn't been so good lately).

With that done she paced around the counter and flipped the sign on the door around. The word 'Open' now beckoning to the outside world. She went back to sit on her stool behind the counter, knowing the normal routine was that customers didn't show up for at least a few hours after-

" _Ding"_

The young business owner immediately perked up at the door opening, _"Who would come here at ten in the morning?"_ She wondered. Tired eyes locked onto a girl roughly her age stepping in.

Max's eyebrow raised.

This mystery customer definitely wasn't the regular passer-by. Blue hair was what caught her eyes first, followed by a beanie, leather jacket, rough jeans and boots. Attire that looked rundown, yet, cared for at the same time. This girl was different. Cool. Pretty... even.

"Uhm, yo." Max heard a voice call. The brunette blinked out of her daze, only to realize the girl was right at the counter.

"H-Hey, what can I get for you?" Max spoke plainly, to which she had immediate regret. For some reason, she felt the need to emphasize her getting to this girl.

"Hmmm," the blue-haired girl hummed, "I'll try two of these brownies." She pointed at the exact item in the display case.

"Sure thing." Max said a little more cheerfully. She paced over, picked the two pastries, and placed them in a small paper bag branded with the logo of her shop on it, "Anything else?"

"Nah."

"O-kay, that's four bucks." Max started to feel a little awkward.

The girl reached into her back pocket and produced a beat-up wallet to match the rest of her apparel. She flipped it open and...

Dumped a heap of change onto the counter. Quarters, nickels, and dimes all making a big ruckus in this relatively quiet establishment.

Max made a face, but then tried not to giggle at seeing how sheepish the girl started to act. "My bad." She apologized.

Max nodded. She glanced to the wallet now resting next to the change heap, and caught a glimpse of this person's driver's license. The name on the front reading 'Chloe Price'.

' _Chloe.'_ Was all Max thought of. Something compelled her to do something different with this girl. Like she wanted to get to know her. Taking action, she picked up the wallet and handed it back to her, "It's on the house," She said with a grin.

The punk now known as Chloe smirked as well, "Oh c'mon, at least take what's here. You're new in town, me not paying is like armed robbery."

"It's fine, really. So long as you come back again."

"Ehhh, I see the catch here-" Chloe paused and glanced at Max's chest, expecting to find a name tag there. The brunette blushed and felt that awkward feeling come back, "No name tag, just Max."

"Mad Max, and the bake shop. I like it." Chloe approved of her own nickname.

Max laughed some more, "That's one way to put it."

They both shared a gentle laugh before looking into the others eyes. The stare broke as they both started to feel a tad bit warmer.

"So... tell ya what; you come back tomorrow and buy at least one thing, then we're square?" Max proposed, shoving off the fact that this stupid clause of hers was just a ploy for her to see Chloe again.

"Deal, Max."

They shook hands sarcastically, smiling all the while. Before Chloe stepped out, Max asked one last question;

"What's your name by the way?" The bakeshop owner called. Even though she already knew.

"It's, Chloe."

"See ya tomorrow then _Chloe_."

Damn did that name sound a lot better outside her head.

Suddenly, owning your own business didn't feel so hard anymore.

 _ **A/N**_ **Ay, I'm back! Thanks for the prompt. Did it feel too subdued/weak? I didn't want to go full throttle on it, so I hope it works. I've got a few more I'll be posting this week. Just gonna ease my way in here.**


End file.
